Behind the Mask
by Mikki13
Summary: Even though she's spent a life hiding behind her mask, Sarah's discovered one person who can bring her out into the open. One man who has somehow broken through her bolstered walls and shown her what it means to have a normal life.


**A/N: **And in honor of ulstergirl's birthday, I bring you . . . smut (concealed within a plot, of course)! Because no girl should go without a nice dose of smut'tage on her special day. ;-)

**A/N 2: **To those of you reading this fic who have also read "A Chuckmas Carol": Thank you. Your reviews were awesome and made my week. As soon as I get a free moment, I will PM the lot of you. And I promise to have another chapter up quite soon.

**Disclaimer: **Chuck belongs to NBC. The dirty mind and the penchant to ditch her obligations and write belongs to Mikki13.

~*~

She wears a mask to cover her emotions.

A careful façade to hide everything that she feels. To disguise the fact that she feels anything at all. Not that she pays much attention. Not that she really even knows that she's doing it. It's instinctual, intuitive. Innate. She learned long ago to keep herself guarded, to keep herself hidden. To protect herself from the unknown variables threatening to pierce her carefully fortified world.

It's the life of a spy. It's the life of a con artist. It's the life of Sarah and Jenny and every other persona she's ever had. It's her technique, her way. Her world.

Not that she doesn't long to let go. Not that she doesn't long to give in. Not that she doesn't wonder what it would be like if she could surrender to her emotions, to her desires, and simply lead a normal life.

Even if to Sarah Walker, a normal life is something of an anomaly. An aberration. A departure from everything she's ever known. Because Sarah Walker will always be the girl who learned how to throw knives at the age of nine. Sarah Walker will always be the girl who knew how to con before she knew how to crawl. Sarah Walker will always be the girl who spent two years denying herself true love before finally succumbing and letting go.

Because there's one thing that can shatter her defenses, one thing that can pierce her carefully protected world. One thing that can strip away her mask, strip away her guard, and force her to let go. One thing that has somehow found its way into her life, into the center of her world, even when she spent two years trying to hold it at arm's length.

One man who has somehow broken through her bolstered walls and shown her what it means to have a normal life.

And every time she sees his innocent grin, honest and untainted upon his face, her mask falters and slips, exposing the raw emotions reflected within her eyes. Every time he brushes against her bare arm, or threads his fingers through her soft hand, or slides an arm around her slender shoulders, her mask melts and fades, revealing the depth of her true feelings within her bright blue gaze. And when they make love for very the first time, she surrenders to his touch, allowing him to see exactly how far she's fallen, and exactly how much he's affecting her.

Even if maybe she'll never let her guard down completely. Even if maybe she'll always keep her walls slightly fortified. Even if the icy sting of fear will never completely dissolve from her consciousness. When she's wrapped up in Chuck's touch, when she's lost in his embrace, she knows what it's like to be normal, if only for a minute.

It's that way now. As they back toward her bed, his hands exploring her naked body in a way that leaves her breathless and causes her heart to pound, their tongues dueling together in a delicious dance in a way that sends a shiver coursing up her spine, her fingers curling through his thick brown hair in a way that causes them to ache for further contact, she allows the shield to drop, the guard to slip away, and the concealed woman to emerge from behind the mask of her CIA counterpart.

"Chuck," she whispers into his mouth, a thrill traversing her frame when she brushes against his rock hard groin. Pushing him onto the bed, her lips move to his neck, playing against the soft flesh she finds there. And when he traces gentle fingers up her torso, leaving a blazing trail upon her skin as he closes in on a pert breast, she can't stop the moan which escapes her throat.

Disengaging her lips from his supple skin, she leans back to gaze at him for a long moment, the emotions reflected within her eyes making her appear open and vulnerable in a way that neither of them is used to, even if maybe it's something they both want. And in that moment, the same stab of fear reverberates through her chest, threading through her muscles and causing them to knot. But before she can give into it, before she can resurrect the mask, hide behind the shield, and pretend away the feelings racing through her body, he reaches for her hand and laces his fingers with her own. And when she glances at their intertwined fingers, and then looks back at the man lying naked upon her bed, she feels the fear beginning to dissolve. She feels the panic beginning to ebb. And she allows herself to fall into the most tender pair of brown eyes she's ever seen.

"Is everything okay?" he asks quietly, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to . . ."

Swallowing gently, she looks at him for several long seconds, allowing the warmth of his gaze to wash away the fear still welled within her gut. And before she can stop herself, before she can even register her actions, a soft smile spreads across her face. "I want this, Chuck," she says, instinctively squeezing his hand. "I want _you_." _I've wanted you for as long as I've known you._

His brow furrowing, his lips curl into a tentative smile. "Are you –"

But she's had enough of talking. She's had enough of waiting. She's had enough of lying to herself. So before he can finish his sentence, she captures his mouth in a tortuous kiss, her tongue darting out to trace his lower lip. When she breaks away a moment later, all of the hesitation has left her face. "Yeah," she says, straddling him with a glint in her eyes, "I'm sure." And then she takes him into the palm of her hand, causing him to groan as her nimble fingers curl around his sensitive shaft, and she guides him into her hot, slippery opening, her eyes locked upon his the entire time.

Countless silent thoughts, innumerable unspoken words pass between them, every potent emotion contained within their joined gazes as Sarah's inner muscles ripple and clench around him, her hips beginning a rhythmic cadence with his urgent, ardent thrusts. Fiery prickles of heat traverse her glistening skin, an exquisite rush of pressure blazes within her belly, and white hot sparks of pleasure shoot up and down her spine. And as a cacophony of moans fills her hotel room and her name sounds like a mantra upon his lips, Sarah surrenders to Chuck's touch and completely allows herself to let go, the mask finally slipping from her face.

It's only when she collapses on top of him several minutes later, her breath emerging in short gasps and her chest rising and falling as they ride their momentary high that she realizes how vulnerable she's truly become. Once again, she can feel her chest clench from fear, her stomach knot from panic. Her muscles tense from anxiety.

And then she feels him wrap his long, lanky arms around her smooth, slick back as his lips brush against her cheek. And she feels his fingers stroke her soft skin, his short nails raking gently against her lower back. And in that minute, in that instant, she realizes that even though she's an expert at hiding her emotions, even though she's a master at hiding her fears, she's all too tired of hiding from _him_. And suddenly, her fear dissolves once more, her panic ebbs again, and she's moving her mouth to his ear.

"I love you, Chuck," she whispers, thrilling when he sucks in a breath and his arms tighten around her slender frame. And when he shifts so that she's lying by his side, and his eyes lock onto her affectionate gaze again, she feels her heart actually skip a beat as her defenses completely collapse.

"I love you, too, Sarah," he says, leaning in to place a kiss upon her lips. "I have for a long time."

And as their kiss turns sensuous, and their hands explore anew, and their bodies move back together in another heated dance, she forgets to be afraid. She forgets to resurrect her guard. And she forgets to worry about what happens next. Because no matter what they might encounter, no matter how difficult it might be to either explain or hide their relationship from the CIA, she knows that she's not giving this up now. She's not giving _him_ up now. Because for the first time in her life, she's discovering what it's like to have something normal, to have something _right_, and it's a feeling all too wonderful to ignore.

_Fin._


End file.
